


The X-Vengers

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 17:46:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18743983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Cyclops, right? You want to get out of my way,” Bucky mutters, grabbing the unfairly attractive blond by his collar… He would really like to see what the stiff looks like with his glasses off and on all fours.





	The X-Vengers

Bucky spits out blood (and possibly a tooth) on the ring floor, turning to glare at the asshat who just jump-kicked him the face with a clawed foot. The ostrich man looks pretty pleased with himself, but he’s about to be turned into fried chicken...

“An impressive strike by Talon, knocking over the Wolverine like a little pansy!” the announcer yells out, and Bucky’s about to break the rule about not fighting outside of the cage to teach this toxic masculinist a lesson. He’s been making quips about Bucky’s indiscriminate choices of where he puts it or lets other people puts it since he started in the cage and Bucky’s had about all he can take. He can tear the guy a new asshole…

But speaking of assholes, the ostrich charges at him and tries the same kick again, and Bucky shakes his head at the lack of originality. Does he really think Bucky’s going to fall for the same trick twice? Bucky waits until he gets close to extend his claws, puncturing his opponent’s calf. Ouch, bird man. Ouch. Try that without a healing factor.

The ostrich screeches loud enough to shatter eardrums, and the roaring excitement of the crowd turns to pained screams.

“No abilities that affect the audience! Ten penalty points on Talon!”

“What! That’s bullshit,” the bird shouts. He turns his long neck to glare at Bucky. He hates it when they take it personally. And not because he has a weak constitution and wants everyone to like him. No, because when guys like this start feeling some sort of way about the fight and start to take it personally because their little egos can’t take it, they get sloppy and really now, is that fun for anyone?

The guy runs towards him again, this time with his neck craned forward and with that really hard-looking beak pointed straight at him. He likes a hard cock now and then, but only when he expects it and only if it’s solicited and comes with a face attached. He ducks the attack and makes a move to stab the asshole in his thighs (non-fatally, of course) when he feels a jab of pain in his shoulder. Dammit. He’s knocked face-front right onto the floor.

Bird guy swings his long neck back around and gets him good at his side, flipping him over onto his shoulder. And Bucky thought this was going to be an easy swift victory. He may have counted his chickens before they hatched with this fight… after which they proceeded to attack him with their cute little beaks. His left shoulder is completely dislocated. “Sonnuva…”

“Not so tough now, are ya? The mighty Wolverine. I honestly expected more, dog.”

He hates it when they drone on. And dog? Pot kettle much? It takes about five seconds for his bones to snap back together and for his flesh to knit back together like a fine scarf. It takes him half that time to get on his feet and slip backwards into a rotating summersault, dragging his claws along the turkey’s neck and probably severing his jugulars (non-fatally, of course…). The guy goes down like a lump of … well chicken. Whatever a lump of chicken was (winking at you, machine separated nuggets). Bucky’s not too sorry about it. It’ll hurt for a while, but the bird will live.

He raises his arms in a display of victory before making his way to the edge of the cage. Leaning against the cold metal, Bucky takes a cigarette out from his pocket and lights it, taking a drag that settles an itch in his belly.

“And Talon is down. The winner is, again, the Wolverine…” the announcer drawls out like a teenager at church.

“Hey you fucking amphibian, can’t you sound a little more enthusiastic?” He takes another pull on the cigarette. The crowd is chanting his name. He should’ve chosen a better alias. He only found out that he was more related to a fur coat than a wolf when a very precocious little girl made it her business to tell him.

He leans facing against the cage, arms raised above his head. A pretty blonde in the front row gives him an interested smile, and he winks. His baby blues are his real superpowers.

“Any challengers?” the announcer drones out. “Any at all, at triple the rate?”

Out of the corner of the cage he spots a tall man with shoulder length blonde hair walking towards the ring. His interest piques. The man looks like a Norse god. Bucky reckons he’s worth at least a few rounds.

“I am Colossus, the man of steel,” the man roars out in a British accent. He’s pretty sure there’s already a man of steel, but it’s literally not his business, he’s all about fair use.

“I am here to challenge this brave and noble badger man,” tall, blond and medieval announces, and whatever attraction Bucky felt vaporizes into a mist of annoyance.

“But instead of moneys or gold or bar maidens, I request instead that this rather puny man with his soft and delicate flesh come with me and my friends to discuss a proposition.”

Bucky scoffs before taking a final drag on his cigarette. He tosses the bud outside the ring and turns toward the walking Clairol add.

“Sorry bub, but I’m not a fan of group sex. Too many arms and legs flaying about. It honestly gives me anxiety.”

The man rumbles out a laugh that sounds like thunder crackling through the air. “You are funny, little rodent man. I hope you are prepared to fall in disgrace.” Yep, Bucky likes this guy as much as he likes cold coffee. Or anything that leaves him gagging with a bitter, acrid taste in his mouth… Bucky also hasn’t forgotten his little statement about bar maidens. He’s not down for casual misogyny.

“Bring it on,” Bucky winks.

“On the third hit of the gong, you may begin the melee!”

He doesn’t get much of a head’s up before he’s punched in the face by fist that feels like the impact of three ton hammer. He’s sent flying against the cage.

He’s not sure if the crowd is silent because they’re holding their breaths, or if the ringing in his ears is going to be permanent (damn his healing powers). He cranes his head from the slumped position he’s found himself in and sees metal in place of the man. Great. How is he supposed to cut through a solid hunk of a hunk?

Metal man runs his way and Bucky gathers himself just in time to avoid another fist, rolling onto his left arm before pushing himself up onto his feet. He swings and his fist makes contact with the man’s face, but if his bones weren’t reinforced by vibranium, he’s pretty sure his hand would shatter. Norwegian steel barely budges. The only thing taking a hit is Bucky’s pride.

Metal man grabs him by his neck, hauling through the air like a rag doll. “Do you surrender, or will you face defeat with honor?” Bucky takes that as an opportunity to twist his body forward until his thighs wrap around Colossus’s neck. Bucky’s not above fighting dirty. He squeezes until the man splutters and tips over backward. Bucky has practice in choking people out with his thighs. He even gets paid for it sometimes (though not in _that_ way).

It doesn’t last long, however, because metal man pries his thighs apart at the knees and slams him into the floor (and not in the good way either). He rolls over on his side and barely avoids another fist to his face before he’s had enough. He rolls onto his feet and extends his claws.

“Silly mortal, you cannot defeat me with your hand knives. I am metal.”

Bucky cocks his head to the side, raising an unimpressed brow towards the man.

“First of all,” he says as he raises his claws to eye-level. “I am pretty sure I’m pushing the limits of mortality.” He takes off running, jumping towards the roof of the cage and hoisting himself up. He drops down claws first and pierces the other man’s shoulders and causing him to shriek out in surpise. No matter what this man was made of, Bucky’s vibranium claws would pierce through it.

Metal man grabs at his shoulder, but not before Bucky spins around and pierces his glutes, slices his leg, and kicks him square in the back until he falls forward. Bucky sure hopes this guy has insurance.

The man pushes himself back up, and the cuts in his flesh fills in like someone poured liquid metal into a mold. “You are a formidable foe, but you are no match for me!” The man runs towards Bucky and squeezes him in the tightest bear hug he’s ever gotten. Then, the man’s body starts to sparkle before a giant bolt of lightning strikes through the roof of the arena, sending debris flying across the stage.

Bucky can smell his internal organs cooking, and he doesn’t want to test the extent of his healing factor. He twists out of Colossus’s grip and stumbles backward, tripping over a beam that fell from the roof. He doesn’t expect an underground mutant fighting ring to have the best contractors around, but this is shotty construction even for his standards.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Bucky grabs the fallen beam. He swings it like a big rod and knocks the metal man over the head. Tin-man seems to be disoriented from the impact, but Bucky doesn’t want to leave it to chance. He swings the beam in a circular motion until he’s about to fall onto his ass in a dizziness, managing to hit the other man’s head a few times.

The two of them wobble back and forth like two drunk men. Luckily, his healing factor extends to his balance, and Bucky manages to stay on his feet while his opponent thumps to the ground.

“And the winner is, again, the Wolverine…” the announcer sighs, and Bucky’s really going to kill that toad someday.

Bucky makes his way to the other guy. He looks like he’ll be sleeping off the multiple head-on impact. He grabs his jacket from where he threw it at the foot of the ring’s entrance and makes his way out the arena through the crowd of spectators. He’s out the back door when he’s intercepted by a tall, blond man wearing sunglasses (at night, and indoors! What a tool). What’s up with all the tall blonds tonight? Is there a Chris’s convention in town?

“James Buchanan Barnes,” the man steps forward, “alias Wolverine. Mutation, enhanced healing and vibranium claws,” the man says.

“What is this, speed dating?”

The man lets out a laugh, and uh-oh. It’s deep and rich and it goes straight to Bucky’s coc… heart. “Not quite. My name is Steve Rogers, alias Captain Cyclops. I’m here to talk.” He holds his hand out for a shake.

As much as Bucky would like to touch the man, he makes it a rule not to get too familiar with strangers.

“Just to talk? Like your buddy back in the ring?” Yeah, Bucky’s not stupid. Not many people run around in yellow spandex suits with X’s on them. Unless that’s a thing now. Which he hopes it isn’t, because as much as he’s all for people embracing their inner freak, he’s not sure he wants to live in a society where people go around in gimp suits.

“I’ll admit that Thor’s policy is to hit first and ask questions later,” he pulls his hand back, rubbing it along the back of his neck in what Bucky assumes is an adorable nervous tick. Bucky raises an eyebrow, going for a little bit of intimidating, and a little bit flirty. He admits he’s intrigued by the clean-cut drink of water in front of him.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” he says, eyes drifting downwards… “What are you here to talk about?”

The man’s face turns bright red like a ripened apple, and Bucky’s tempted to take a bite.

“Have you heard of the X-Vengers?”

Bucky rolls his eyes. He recognizes the uniform. Just because he spends most of his free time being knocking down beers and most of his working hours being knocked on the head doesn’t mean he’s an idiot.

“Who doesn’t? You’re the guys who like to run around playing hero, right?”

The blond’s shoulders tense. Bucky can smell the defensiveness on him.

“We don’t just play, Mr. Barnes,” he replies, and it looks like Bucky’s hit a sore spot.

“Oh? So you guys are bona-fide heroes, huh?”

“We try to do whatever we can to help, whatever that makes us.”

Mister sunny disposition here seems put off. You can put a man in a suit, but you sure can’t take a hero’s head out of his ass. This is why Bucky doesn’t like guys with chips on their shoulders, always trying to prove something to the world.

“What it makes you guys? To who? To the humans that hate us, no matter what your group says or does? Or perhaps because of what you say and do?”

“With all due respect,” the man replies, arms carefully laid against his sides in a display of carefully curated calm. “We give hope to the world that mutants and humans can coexist peacefully, without prejudice, fear, or conflict.” He looks so damn earnest that Bucky actually feels sorry for the guy.

“I’m doing just fine without mutant and human kumbaya, thank you very much.”

“Oh yeah?” the guy smirks. Bucky grits his teeth. “Come out and say what you want to say, punk.”

“Look, you’re obviously a mutant of great talents. We can really use someone like you.”

“Are you propositioning me? Don’t be offended pal when I say there’s nothing you’re selling that I’m buying. I’m not going to be a pawn in your war. I’m not fighting for anyone but myself.”

“And just how is that working out for you?”

Bucky doesn’t hesitate to slam the guy against the door. “You wanna watch your mouth? I don’t think you’re made of steel like your friend back there.”

The blond lets out a breath. “Just look around you. This is where the world wants to see us mutants, fighting in cages for sport.” Bucky doesn’t care how attractive the man is, he’s about to lose that pretty head of his if he doesn’t stop his sanctimonious preaching.

“You know what punk? Not all of us have a rich sugar daddy supporting our lifestyles, so excuse me if I say I don’t want to join your fruitless crusade.”

The man holds both his hands up in a placating gesture. “Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

“Cyclops, right? You want to get out of my way,” Bucky mutters.

“Please, just hear me out,” he pleaded.

“I’m planning on spending my night drinking at that piece of crap bar down the road,” Bucky says as he walks away from the blond and towards the end of the alley, “and if you happen to be there, well it’s a free country.”

He makes his way over to Wade’s G-Spot (that’s really the name, he swears), jacket slung over his shoulder, and a six-foot Adonis following him. He would really like to see what the stiff looks like sans glasses and on all-fours.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This will be a mesh-up of the dynamics of the Avengers with the dynamics of the X-Men, though all the characters are based on the MCU’s Avengers roster. I will be drawing stories mostly from various animation and film incarnations of the X-Men, but will be very liberal with the inspiration to make the story flow better with the character dynamics.


End file.
